Outbreak: Lubbock Texas
by Modus666
Summary: My friends and I try to survive a zombie outbreak in Lubbock Texas!
1. Chapter 1

The cats were going crazy. That was my first clue something was wrong out there. I mean, they were known to mew from time to time but nothing like the panicked cries and banging coming from the rest of the house. Groggily I sat up and checked the clock of my cell phone which was charging nearby. Geezus, 2 a.m. Still half-asleep I rolled off the bed to my feet and opened the door. That's when the smell hit me. I had left the windows open that night to let some of the cool air in. The days had been so hot and dry. A common condition in west texas. At first I had thought maybe the wind had just shifted and we were downwind from the feed-lots again, but the overtones of decay quickly made themselves apparent.  
  
My two cats dashed into my room and into the closet. I made for the front door to see what was going on to upset them so. It looked like there was some sort of party going on outside, only in slow motion. People were staggering all over the streets. It took a second for the lack of the typical heavy bass music blaring to catch my attention. Then I saw my neighbor... you know I never bothered to catch their names... dash from the house, screaming. She was bleeding. I could see the dark stains on her night gown in the illumination provided by her porch light. Someone staggered out door behind her, arms outstretched. He looked like her son. He looked... odd. Several of the people nearby turned and lurched in her direction. There was nowhere for her to go. They were on her in two seconds. There was a chorus of moaning accented by screams and the sickening sounds of tearing flesh. My eyes went wide and my heart raced. I couldnt see what was happening for the other "people" in the way, but I had a pretty good idea. It was at that moment that someone shuffled into view right in front of my door. It was a woman. She was dressed in some kind of torn gown. There was dirt in her hair. She turned to face the window, obviously spotting me. Her face... half of it anyway... was gone...  
  
I fell backwards with a shout. That shout damn near got me killed. The dead woman at my door began to pound on it, and through the open windows I could see several more forms shuffling towards the house, no dout alerted by my yelps. This was something straight out of my worst nightmares. Literally. There was only one word to describe the situation... zombies. Something my subconscious mind had plagued me with for years. Night after night, visions of the rotting dead haunted me. Ever since my car wreck over a decade ago I had had the dreams...  
  
Breaking out of my reverie I scrambled to my feet. I had to get out of here. By the number of forms I saw outside there must be over a hundred of them. Already I can hear them pounding on the door. I dash to my room and pull on some jeans and a shirt. Adrenaline is racing through my system. My eyes search for something to defend myself with, anything. The glass in my windows shatters, and several grey-skinned arms reach through. They're groaning... just like in my nightmares. I grabbed my staff, a slightly curved, thick wooden walking staff my grandmother had bought me some years ago in new mexico. I had liked it because of it's shamanistic look. Somehow I doubt it would be used for anything ritualistic tonight. The glint of metal catches my eye. My sword. It's just a cheap pakistani steel replica, but it's sharp. I have my friend Will to thank for that. He could put an edge on anything. The dead are almost through the window now as I attach the short blade to my belt. I wish Mike were still here. He was always armed to the teeth. Medical school had stolen him and his gun collection away to El Paso though.  
  
The large windows in the dining room break about the same time as the front door gave way. I was halfway across the room, heading for the kitchen. Two small, panicked, streaks of fur followed hot on my heels. Bringing my staff to bear I clubbed the nearest corpse, sending it sprawling back into its companions. It slowed the mob long enough to get to the kitchen and fling the door open. The backyard was clear, thank god. Seems the 6 foot fence was at least somewhat effective. Wedge and Mara, my cats, dashed out as I slammed the door shut behind me, locking the deadbolt with my keys, which were mercifully enough still in the pants I had pulled on. The dead fell against the door immediately, banging and clawing at it. I had only a few moments before some of them found the window...  
  
I made for the back gate and the alleyway. There was no way I could make it to my SUV. The front yard was overrun. Looking around I could see the dead meandering about the streets of my neighborhood, but except for the ones now crashing through my back window they didnt seem to notice me... yet. I opened the gate and entered the alley behind our place. Wedge and Mara followed. I was surprised at that. Those two usually didnt seem to fond of me. I guess they figured they had a better chance while sticking the the guy with the beat-stick. Keeping as low as I could I crept through the dark alleyway. Dark. I had forgotten how dark it got back here at night. If I bumped into one of those walking dead-guys I'd be in a world of hurt. Well... with any luck they cant see in the dark very well either.  
  
My some miracle I made it to the end of the alley. I had hoped to flag down someone in a car and make for the police, or fire department, or a hospital, ANYTHING really. My mind was racing and my body was on overdrive from teh adrenaline surging through me. My hopes were dashed when I got a good look at the condition of the street. There were several crashed cars. Some of them were on fire. The street was mostly blocked. Apparently some folks had bailed or crashed rather than run into these walking corpses. There were a few of them visible in the street. They hadnt seen me yet. How fast had all this happened? Had things really fallen apart this quickly? Where did they all come from? My mind went over the layout of the neighborhood. There was a graveyard, about a mile away. That must be where this started.  
  
Putting the toe-heel express into full throttle I headed down the street. I could outrun these guys... for awhile. My fat-ass wasnt made for running, and my old car-wreck injuries would eventually slow me down to a crawl. Already my shattered right knee was creaking, but the adrenaline hadnt worn off just yet. I could hear screams from some of the houses. Nothing I could do for them... I muttered a silent prayer to the gods for those who were caught unawares and crept on. The only place I could think to head for was Darrell's house, and hope to gods that they hadnt gotten there yet. I was quite a few blocks away... Clicking my tongue softly I caught the attention of my two feline refugees and we ran along.  
  
If my dreams and the movies were any indication, the "infection," or "curse," or whatever it was would spread like a plague. Those who were killed would rise up eventually. And those who were bitten, would turn in time. Did I have any hard evidence of this? Of course not. But instinct and a little thing my friends like to call "gamer sense" made me fairly confident of these facts.  
  
A few more blocks. They were still there. Not all packed together like at my house. But just a few of them is enough. The screams and shouts of fear and confusion were everywhere. One person sped past me in a convertible, only to crash into a pole a few dozen yards later, his female passenger was latched onto his neck, chewing hungrily. He must have been trying to save her... No time for sentimentality as I swung my staff in a wide arc, knocking the head off an unsespecting corpse that was in my path. Some of them were less sturdy than others it seemed, no doubt relative to their decayed state. The tried and true movie method seemed to be workign so far. The body didnt get up. Mental note to self... aim for the head. It's the only way to be sure. My cats were faring significantLY better than I was. They weaved easily between the legs of the walking dead when they had to. My breath was coming in ragged gasps as the adrenaline rush gave way to a sense of creeping dread. I was only about halfway to D's house, and I was already giving out. Years of MacDonald's burgers were taking their toll on me... I had to find a place to catch my breath. A nearby dumpster caught my eye, and as I hauled my body in my cat's must have agreed as they followed suit. Closing the lid, I could only hope the dead would wander nearby and hear, or smell, or sense, me... whatever they did.  
  
How long did I sit there? I couldn't tell. The stench of garbage was overshadowed by fatgiue. My breathing had finally slowed to something sane. My heart was beating at a reasonable pace. Nothing had come by and tried to eat me just yet so for that I was thankful. Mara and wedge were licking their paws idly, still huddled up against me in the darkness of the trash. Panic lept upon me though, as I thought about my friends over at D's place ance the danger they were in if they weren't already fighting for their lives. With the creaking in my joints worse than ever I stood up, peeking out from under the flimsy plastic lid of my shelter. There were a few dead-boys nearby, but they werent facing me. Experience had shown that if I kept quiet they might not notice me. And that would have been great if I hadnt slipped and fallen noisily onto the pavement, my staff clattering and rolling away.  
  
The zombies turned to face me. Their eyes were grey, glossed over. They both were missing large patches of skin, revealing muscle and bone beneath. Their clothes were old, torn, and rotting like the rest of them. They stepped over my staff and lurched towards me. I needed that staff... it was the bulkiest weapon I had. Drawing my sward from it's scabbard I attempted to dodge around them to the left and snatch my other weapon from the ground, using my sword to fend them off. And that might have worked had I remembered that I am half-crippled, overweight, and not terribly nimble. My left leg skidded on the asphalt and I tumbled to the ground. One of the zombies fell right on top of me. I managed to get my sword-blade in his mouth, holding him off just long enough to slide the even clumsier corpse off of me and scramble away. Mara and Wedge watched with interest from their perch on the dumpster. Going back to plan 'A' I grabbed my staff and ran. The three zombies pursued, slowly. The close call rattled me, and I didnt stop shaking till I had cleared 5 more blocks. God bless adrenaline... 


	2. Chapter 2

The front porch light of Darrel's house was on. THe windows seemed intact. The front doors werent bashed in. Maybe they hadnt reached here yet. By now I could hear sirens in all directions, but none nearby. Mara weaved around my legs, mewing quietly.   
  
"I know kitten, we have to check inside..."  
  
Staff in hand I approached the front door, ears straining for the tell-tale sound of a zombies hungry moan, or the nauseating scent of decay that heralded their presence. Nothing. With one hand I opened the front door, and promptly found myself staring down the barrel of some manner of large handgun, poking through the crack.   
  
"WHOA SHIT!" I exclaimed as I ducked.  
  
"It's Scott!" someone cried out from inside.  
  
"Let us in man, It's nuts out here!" Mara and Wedge had already bolted inside, much to the chagrin of the resident felines.  
  
Jeff lowered his gun and looked me over. He didnt say anything. Just walked away from the door. His tall, wiry form was tense, I could tell by his stride something horrible had already happened. Darrell opened the door fully, allowing me in. The blonde, portly guy was holding his own sword tightly. It was a lot like mine, a cheap knockoff, but looked like someone had crudely put a sharper edge on it. Probably Jeff.  
  
Locking the door behind me I finally took a deep breath. Jeff and Braddly, the other roommate of the house, were busy nailing something over the windows. I think it was the door to Brad's room.  
  
"Holy shit, Scott... where's your car?" Darrel stammered.  
  
"Sitting back at the house, surrounded by corpses, the kind that move," I replied flatly.  
  
"This is so fucked man," Darrell was pacing about worriedly.  
  
Jeff came back into view from the back room, "How far have they come?"  
  
"They're only a few blocks from here. The roads are trashed. Cars abandoned or crashed everywhere. The cops are nowhere to be seen, not near here anyway."  
  
Jeff nodded but didnt say anything.  
  
"Where's Wednesday, Jeff?" Wednesday was Jeff's girlfriend at the time. Cute kid, I thought.  
  
"Dead. I... had to..." Jeff shook his head and turned away.  
  
Oh, I thought to myself, she must have been bitten and he had to... Putting the thought from my mind I turned to Braddly, who was still busily hammering at the wall. His hair was trashed, but pulled back and bound with some kind of cord, it's long, wavy blonde locks looked like he had just gotten out of bed. Not unlike myself.  
  
"Think these things will hold?"  
  
"Dunno, but it'll buy us some time, and maybe keep them from noticing us."  
  
"Yeah they dont seem too bright. But here's the one problem I have with that plan. It's going to spread. You know it. I know. Hell DOG's know it. So there's going to be more and more of them. And if we're caught here when they get all packed together there's NO chance for us. There was a whole mess of em back at my place and I barely made it out. Imagine how bad it will be once this spreads."  
  
Jeff chimed in, "He's right. The longer we wait here the worse it will ge-"  
  
Darrell cut him off, "So where do we go?! For all we know the whole town is like this!"  
  
I replied, "So we get out of town. Those dead bastards could have only gotten so far. They ain't fast. And they do stop for a bite now and then."  
  
The joke was ill-timed and unappreciated, Jeff was glaring at me.  
  
Trying to ease the mood I changed the subject, "So, anything on the news?"  
  
"You could say that..." Darrel turned on the TV.  
  
"This is Abner Euresti reporting live from the downtown courthouse. We've been forced to retreat inside as police forces mount a defense against these seemingly unstoppable walking corpses. We're on the third floor of the building and... GOOD GOD... there's so many..."  
  
The camera panned out the window, there was a small army of the walking dead converging on the area.  
  
"All we can do is hope that the building can be secured until reinforcements arrive. Officials have radiod for military assistance."  
  
The camera was frozen on what could be seen of the battle outside. Police forces were unloading on anything that didnt walk right that got within range. Poor fools. They're just wasting ammo not aiming for the head. Darrell turned off the TV.   
  
"It's been like this for hours," Darrel sighed, "different parts of town, all slowly getting overrun. But at least word has gotten out."  
  
"Yeah, but how long will that take. These guys may move slow but not everyone's got the knowhow or the guts to handle them. Whoe town could be a walking tomb by the time any real help gets here."  
  
"Wonder what it's like over by Resthaven," Jeff said.  
  
A cold shiver ran over my body. Resthaven. There always was something wrong about that damned graveyard. That... and it was a damned BIG graveyard.   
  
"I don't want to think about that. I just want to get out of here. This place is going downhill fast and the longer we wait the worse it'll get. So gather up whatever we can carry easily, ok guys?"  
  
There was some hesitation, but after a moment everyone nodded and set about gathering things up. Jeff, being the most well-armed. Stood watch, checking the doors and windows from time to time.  
  
It took longer than expected to get everythign ready. As a bunch of D&D players we had plenty of backpacks lying around. Darrel's pantry was always packed since he never cooked, so scrounging up some food to take with us was no problem. We filled up some empty 20 oz. bottles with water and packed them too. We knew we couldnt plan for a real long trip... but this might just last us till we were out of the city.  
  
The phone at D's house had gone dead, and nobody's cell phones were working for some reason. Our only guess was that things were going downhill fast everywhere.  
  
"So you seem to have a plan big guy," Darrel said cheerfully, "what next?"  
  
Honestly I hadnt thought much farther than "pack and go." I wasn't going to tell them that however.  
  
"Um... right... well the streets are fucked so the cars arent really an option. If we can find a clear spot we'll just GET a car. Till then we'll have to go on foot. Stay clear of large packs. Dont get cornered. And always, always aim for the head."  
  
They others were just staring at me.  
  
"What? You got any better ideas."  
  
A few shrugs and muttered comments later we were all poised to make a dash out the front door... 


	3. Chapter 3

The street in fron of Darrel's house was mostly dark except for the street lights. The houses all around were dark. I thought I heard whimpering noises coming from somewhere. I cursed myself for ignoring them as we moved along. Jeff had the lead.  
  
"I forgot to ask, Jeff," I whispered, "How much ammo you carrying."  
  
"Just 3 clips, plus the one loaded. Wasn't exactly planning on the apocalypse y'know."  
  
"Yeah..." I did a mental count. His .45 held a 7 round magazine... plus one in the chamber... that meant 29 rounds. Shit.  
  
We cleared the next few blocks without much incident, heading east. Wasn't much sense in running unless we had to. It would just tire us out. Plus there was no way Darrel and I could keep up it came down to a marathon run. So we just crept along the street quietly. Braddly and I pulled up the rear, both armed with staves, Darrel in the middle with his sword, and Jeff still in the lead. Things had been quiet for awhile. Only the distant wail of sirens or the occasional muffled scream from inside a house clued us in that there were still signs of life. That is... until the sounds of moaning reached us.  
  
The noise came on slowly, with subtlety, and was easy to miss at first. It slowly crescendoed, but it was so gradual that by the time we noticed it, it was actually rather loud. We had just turned a corner, avoiding several burning cars when we saw them. There was a wall of death staggering down the street. We all froze. There was easily 5 or 6 dozen of them spread out across the street. I hadnt seen a pack this large, except on the TV, and that was going on downtown. From the looks of some of the lead zombies it was obvious these people were recently killed. Their skin wasn't quite as grey, their eyes still sharp, and their motions slightly more fluid. They all had huge chunks torn from their bodies though, and their cloths were stained with coagulating blood. My mind immediately jumped to my previous ammunition count. Shit.  
  
Jeff was the first to break out of his horrified paralysis. He spun on his heels and smacked Darrel across the shoulder.  
  
"Run!" he barked.  
  
We all turned and ran weaving past the burning hulk of a couple of cars. The dead were in pursuit, but the cars gave them problems, buying us a little more time. I felt like my heart was going to explode. By body isnt built for this sort of thing and I had been running on adrenaline all night. The pain that began to throb in my joints wasn't QUITE enough to overpower the though of being chewed on by some dead-guy though, and I kept on going. I was just beginning to think we might be able to just outdistance this batch of corpses when I heard a sharp yelp from just ahead of me. Braddly toppled to the ground, he was clutching his ankle. A twisted piece of metal clattered away from him.  
  
I stopped next to him, hauling him up onto his good leg with all the strength I could muster, which was actually respectable considering the circumstances. Brad draped one arm over my shoulder and we limed along. My knees were screaming in agony with the additional weight added to my already considerable bulk. We weren't moving as swiftly, of course, but luckily even in our crippled state Braddly and I could out distance the dead.  
  
Jeff and darrell pulled up short when they finally noticed we were missing. The whirled about to see us limped towards them.  
  
"Fuck!" Jeff cursed.  
  
Darrell ran up to us, taking Braddly's other arm and heling him hop forward as well.  
  
"I can't get far like this... argh" Brad groaned. The moans of the walking dead were getting nearer, the dark silhouettes of the first few in the pack could be made out just outside of normal vision. We were further starled by the sound of breaking glass. Turning to look, we saw several more corpses emerging from some of the houses ahead of us. It was almost as if they were heeding the call of the larger pack that was on our heels.  
  
"We gotta move," I panted, "or they'll cut us off!"  
  
"That way!" Darrel was pointing down what seemed like a mostly clear street. Not seeing any other recourse we hobbled in that direction. It was heading north, deeper into the heart of town. NOT the way we wanted to go... I could only hope we might find some help, maybe some police if we could just keep going. Jeff sighed and lead the way down this new street. He was just as aware how potentially bad it was to be going deeper into town as I.

"Im sorry guys... I had just turned around and... gah!" Brad was fighting throught the pain in his twisted ankle trying to carry as much of his won weight as he could.

"Shutup and run man, we'll worry about being sorry later," I snapped.

36th... 35th... 34th street. We had reached one of the main streets in Lubbock. 34th street was lined with business of various sorts and was usually pretty busy during the day. Right now it looked like a graveyard. The street was mostly open, a couple of cars here and there, some crashed, some abandoned. None of them burning interestingly enough. My eyes brightened

"Jeff, if we can find a car..."

"Yeah already on it man!"

Jeff was already bounding towards the nearest car, a Yugo, or a Kia, hell I can never tell I'm not a "car person." Darrell and I eased bradly onto nearby trash can, getting him off his feet for a second. The moaning sounds of the zombies behind us could still be heard, but they weren't on us... yet. We were watching the area warily for more of the dead that walk. The three of us gasped when Jeff let out a yell. We all grabbed our weapons and were lurching in his direction when he came up from the car smiling from ear to ear. He was shaking a set of keys in his hand.

"Would you believe it? Under the visor. Just like in fuckin Terminator 2 man."

Darrel, Braddly, and I all let out a cheer and made for where Jeff was standing. We didnt even notice the police car pulling up nearby till it wailed at us.


	4. Chapter 4

We all yelped briefly and turned to face the newcomer. His spotlight was on us, partially blinding us. The two cats squinted against the sudden brightness and slinked around behind the trash can to avoid the bright light. The officer inside opened his car door and stood behind it. he wasnt very old, probably no more than thirty. His eyes were wide with fright though. It was obvious he had been alone out here for a bit.  
  
"Awright! Freeze right there!"  
  
I blinked.  
  
"But... we werent moving anyway officer," Braddly rattled off sarcastically.  
  
Darrell whapped him across the arm, glaring at him.   
  
"You, over there, get away from the car!," he gestured with his flashlight.  
  
"Listen man," Jeff replied, "if you hadn't noticed there's a shitstorm goin' down in this town..."  
  
"I said move it..."  
  
"...and if you don't remove head "A" from ass "B"..." Jeff's eyes widened  
  
"Lookout!" Darrell shouted.  
  
It was too late. Something latched onto the police officers ankle. He yelled and toppled to the ground as the crawing corpse crawled up his body. We all froze for just a second. In that second we might have been able to save him... The hungry corpse latched onto the officer's neck. A spray of blood erupted from his arteries as they were savaged. His screams became a panicked gurgle amid the sounds of crunching and ripping. Breaking free of our paralysis Darrell and I bolted for the wounded officer. I kicked with all my strength, rolling the zombie off of the man. He was still clutching at the tears in his throat. The zombie moaned and scrabbled with it's hands for my legs. I could now see why it was crawling. It's legs had been eaton off to the thigh, leaving bones trailing behind it as it crawled along. Darrell moved around to the other side, hefting up his replica sword in both hands. He hesitated.  
  
"The HEAD! Chop it OFF!" I shouted as I kicked and danced frantically, trying to keep the corpse's clawss from latching onto me.  
  
Darrel brought the sword down, missing the neck and gouging into the zombie's shoulder. Black, coagulated blood splattered over my legs. Darrell ripped the sowrd out and swung again, this time striking true, the zombie's head came off relatively easily, and rolled a few feet before stopping. The body convulsed for a few second then lay still. We all turned to look at the police officer lying just a foot or so away. He lay still as well, a pool of blood spreading slowly underneath him.  
  
"Scott! Are you okay?" Jeff asked.  
  
"Yeah I'm fine. No bites. Darrell, gimme the sword."  
  
Darrell blinked then nodded, handing me his blade. Heaving it up like an axe I brought it down on the body of the police officer, requiring several chops to actually sever his head. The other three gasped. Mara and Wedge hopped up onto the hood of the police car.  
  
"It's the only way..." I muttered, tossing Darrel's sword back to him. Moving back to Braddly I helped him up and retrieved my staff.  
  
"Let's take his car. It has a radio," Jeff suggested.  
  
Glancing inside Darrell chuckled.  
  
"Plus a shotgun, and a box of shells, and..."  
  
He was cut off by the moaning sounds from the street behind us. In our struggle we had forgotten about the small army that was not far behind us. It's easy to forget about something that moves that slow until it's on top of you. The first of the zombie pack emerged from teh shadows, it's arms reaching out for us.  
  
"GET IN! Jeff get his gun!"  
  
I hopped into the driver's seat as the others piled in, the cats bolted inside and hid under the passenger seat. Jeff quickly unbuckled the cops belt and dove into the car, sprawling over Darrell's lap to avoid the closest of the walking dead.  
  
"GO GO GO!" Jeff shouted frantically.  
  
I floored the accelerator and we tore away past the zombie horde, clipping several of them in the process. They spun and toppled to the ground, only to get up and continue shambling towards us. I didnt slow down till we were well out of sight of the hoard, several blocks down. Darrell was fiddling with the radio, which sounded mostly of static at this point.   
  
"You know how to use that thing?" I asked.  
  
"No, you?" Darrell replied.  
  
"Nope... just keep trying."  
  
In the back seat, jeff was searching the police officer's belt for something, and eventually found what he was looking for.  
  
"A-HA!"  
  
Jeffgrinned, holding up a small key. He then put it to use, unlocking the shotgun from it's rack.   
  
"Well... at least that's some good news." Brad groaned, rubbing his ankle.  
  
"Where to now?" asked Darrell.  
  
"We stick with the plan, head east," I replied, keeping my eyes on the road and dodging abandoned cars. Get as far as we can in this thing. Try to find help on the radio. Switch to CB if you can find how... maybe someone local and unofficial is listening if you can't get the cops on the horn."  
  
"Right..." Darrell ent back to turning knobs and pressing buttons.  
  
"The gun here's 9mm, got 4 clips on the belt and one chambered. I think there's 13 shots per. Not as much power as mine though. So umm... who wants the shotgun?" Jeff asked.  
  
"ME!" the rest of us said in unison.

Jeff frowned at us.

"Okay folks," I spat, "I'm no good with a handgun. Just ask Jeff he's seen me shoot."

Jeff nodded emphatically

"Darrell you said you took several handgun classes at college, right?"

"Right."

"So obviously you should carry the other handgun since you migth actually HIT something with it should the need arise."

Darrell sighed, "Yeah, yer right."

He adjusted the belt and it's holster and put it on, clicking the ends together, locking themin place. Jeff examined the shotgun for a moment.

"Ok, Scott, this things got an 8 round tubular magazine, pump action. safety is right... here... you lookin."

"As well as I can in the mirror, Jeff. I AM driving you know?"

"You got pockets?"

"Yeah, and my pack there has open space."

"Okay. D? Open up this box of shells and load him up. Gun's loaded already."

While everyone else was busy I grabbed the radio and talked into it while driving. By now we had managed to figure out how to switch frequencies.

"Can anyone hear me? I am east bound on 34th street inside the city. Just past avenue Q. Are there any survivors who can hear me?"

Static.


	5. Chapter 5

The streets maintained their haunted appearance as we cruised along slowly. Every so often one or more of the walking dead would be seen meandering along. A couple of times I had to swerve to avoid plowing into them. The street continued to be mostly clear, a fact that we were thankful for. By now I had given up on the radio. Either we were doing somethign wrong or there just wasnt anybodying answering. Wedge, the smaller of our two feline companions, ventured out from beneath the passenger seat and crawled into Braddly's lap, curling up into a small grey ball. Brad rolled his eyes but stroked his fur as he watched the goings on in the car.

"How's the ankle Brad?" asked Darrell

"Swelling."

Darrell turned to me, "Hey, Scott, he's gonne need a wrap for that or an ice pack or something. And... we might need some medical supplies. Y'know, pain killers, bandages, stuff like that."

"Where you going with this, D?"

"Well there's a Walgreens back up avenue Q a bit right. I think the street was mostly clear that way."

"That could be REAL dangerous..."

"He's right though, Scott," Jeff piped up from the back, "We're gonne need stuff like that before this is all over. Assuming no one else is there we'll make it fast. Quick in and quicker out. Zombies won't have time to swarm us."

"I don't know..."

Mara poked her head up from under the passenger seat and mewed at me. I sighed.

"Right, catfood."

With a frown and a digruntled murmer I wheeled around in the middle of the street, heading back the way we came. I was beginning to feel like every time I started to make progress I ended up back-tracking. Turning left onto avenue Q the street was mostly clear, except for that mob of dead people blocking the middle of the road. I stopped the car and looked at Darrell with one of my classic "I told ya so" looks. Darrell shrugged. By now the mob had noticed us and was beginning to shamble in our direction.

Jeff clapped me on the shoulde and yelled, "FLOOR IT SCOTT!"

Gritting my teeth I slammed he accelerator down. The tires only squealed for a moment before catching and we rocketed towards the oncoming zombies. I couldnt help but close my eyes as my bumper collided with the first of the corpses, it tumbled over the hood and off to the side. Several more splattered and crunched into the glass as we forced our way through. I was afraid the windshield would shatter... but it held fast. The last of the zombies was bowled over and curshed beneath the wheels as we cleared the mob and swerved back onto our appointed path. The mob did a slow 180 and headed for us, but were quickly left behind.

I finally opened my eyes. The windshield was blurred with mud, blackened blood, and other assorted bodily fluids. The spray and wiper-blades cleared it well enough, but the stench was still very strong. Jeff and Darrell were still hiding their faces, Braddly had a cat attached to his arm and was busy trying to carefully pry the claws from his skin. The commotion had spooked Wedge badly.

"We're clear," I chuckled.

The others finally looked up.

"Nice driving, owch," Braddly said as he pushed Wedge aside.

"Well I have always been the 'wheelman' of our crew, right, Jeff?"

Jeff nodded and looked behind us, "Wonder how long they'll follow us once we're out of sight."

"Couldn't tell ya," I replied, "Haven't exactly had a lot of time to study the habits of yer garden variety zombie just yet."

Everyone chuckled.

A few moments later the intersection of 50th and Avenue Q came into view. All the traffic lights were flashing red. There weren't many cars around. And the parking lot of the nearby Walgreens store seemed clear. The lights weren't on inside though. We wheeled up to the front door and tried to peer inside.

"Crap," Darrell muttered.

I sighed, "I'll go. Darrell, get the flashlight off that belt. Jeff, you brought duct tape, right?"

"Right here," He began digging through his bag.

"Tape the flashlight to the shotgun so I can see and aim at the same time and I'll get what we need."

"You're not going in there alone, Scott." Jeff locked his gaze on me firmly. Knowing the young man for as long as I had I knew that looke meant there was no arguing with him.

"Awright. Darrell, get on the driver side and stand by, stay on yer feet. Lock and load man, they may be on us before we expect it. Protect Brad till we get back."

"Got it."

"So what's on the list guys?"

Jeff, stroked his chin, "Bandages, asprin, neosporin... lets just grab several of those pre-packaged first aid kits..." he chuckled to himself, "man, this is sounding more and more like a video game."

Wedge mewed from his position on Brad's lap.

"Yes and catfood," I said.

Jeff and I got out of the police car. Darrell angled the spotlight at the door so we had some light going in. The automatic doors didn't open when we approached. 'The power must be off completely,' I thought. Deciding to take the short route I smashed the glass in the doors with the butt of my shotgun, banging it around the edged forcefully to get rid of the large, sharp shards the initial breaking created. Jeff unholstered his gun, clicked the safety, and pulled the hammer back. I had just begun to step inside when Jeff interrupted me.

"Scott," he said inquisitively.

"What?"

"Shouldn't you take the safety off yer gun there?"

I frowned at myself and pulled the safety switch down into the "dangerous" position.

"Smart ass," I muttered.

Clicking the button on the attacked flashlight I stepped through the broken glass door and into the store. The darkness turned the pharmacy/convenience store from a cheerfully decorated establishment into a small, dark, claustrophobic labrynth. Jeff followed close behind as we moved deeper inside. Knowing the layout of this store, the things we needed would be, of course, in the back. We hugged the wall as we moved down the isle leading to the first aid kits and other medical supplies. It was quiet, but not in a peaceful way. It was quiet like a grave in here.

Jeff and I both tensed up as we heard something fall off the shelf an isle over. The sound was followed by a soft sliding noise, a thump, and then another slide. Jeff and I looked at each other. We both nodded as we realized we weren't alone in here. The items we sought were near the corner of the building, at the end of the isle we were walking along. We stepped even more lightly, trying not to alert... whatever was in the isle next to us. We reached the end of the isle, within sight of our goal, but could still hear the shuffling noises across from us. I looked at jeff as we approached the corner. He nodded and levelled his pistol.

Bypassing the first aid kits for now, the two of us spun around the corner, ready to open fire. The flashlight illuminated the source of the noise, and a humanoid form threw its hand up at the sudden light.

"AAH! DONT HURT ME PLEASE!"

Jeff and I both let out the breaths we had held. Jeff lowered his gun. There was a woman standing about 5 feet away. she looked terrified, she was freckled, with light red hair. She was dressed in a lab coat of some kind. Her nametag said "'Jan.' Probably a pharmacist, I thought.

"Whoa, calm down. We thought you might be one of them." I said, trying to sound soothing.

"What's going on? Those... thing... they're all over the place out there."

"We know." Jeff said, having already gone bak around the corner to grab several of the first aid kits.

At this point I saw the blood on her ankle. I raised my shotgun again, the young woman flinched.

"What happened to your leg?"

"I was locking up for the night... there was one under my car and it bit me. I came back inside to get something to wrap it up with, and... that's when you broke in."

My heart sank. I didnt know how much time she had. Not much, I figured, based on the more recently risen zombies we had seen. I felt sorry for her. Just another innocent victim caught up in all this madness.

"Get back," I said forcefully, "you've been bitten."

"What?" she pleaded

"What?" Jeff came around the corner. Several large first aid kits with shoulder straps dangled from him.

"Her ankle... one of them bit her," I sighed.

"What does that mean?" she was beginning to cry.

Jeff raised his pistol, aiming it for her head.

"WAIT! PLEASE! WHAT ARE YOU DOING?" she sobbed.

"Wait, Jeff, let me explain then she can choose."

Jeff nodded.

"Ok lady listen up. This isn't going to be easy. The 'things,' these zombies, spread some sort of infection or virus or something. When they bite you, you're infected. You'll turn into one of them, eventually."

The woman dropped to the floor.

"No. That can't be true."

"It is, I'm sorry. But I dont know how to stop it. Look at you're ankle."

She pulled her pants leg up slightly. The blood was already turning black around the bite, and little black tendrils were spreading from the site of the wound. The skin there was turning grey. Jeff shuddered, but didnt lower his pistol.

"I don't know how long you have. Not long by all accounts. We'll be gone in a few minutes, but we can make this easier for you." I couldn't believe the words that were coming out of my mouth.

"One shot to the head, and you won't turn into one of them. It's the only way we know of. You're choice, Jan."

"I don't wanna die!"

She was holding her face in her hands, crying. I rubbed my eyes, trying to hide my own tears that were welling up inside me. I knew others were dying in this whole affair, but I hadn't had to deal with it up close and personal like this. Just then we heard two gunshots from outside.

"WE GOT COMPANY!" we heard Darrell shout.

"Last chance, Jan. We're outta here."

"Can't I go with you? Maybe there's a doctor or..."

"No chance," Jeff interrupted, "You can die now or later, lady. The only comfort we can offer is the promise you wont get up again."

"No...no... don't want to die."

"Let it go, Jeff, we gotta get outta here."

Jeff nodded and we ran back towards the door. Reaching it we could see two bodies slumped on the ground about 20 feet form the car. About a dozen more zombies were converging on the parking lot.

Darrell said, "Pretty sneaky for dead guys. They were that close before I heard them."

"Whoa hold up just a sec!" I dashed back inside, emerging a few seconds later with a small bag of catfood.

"Almost forgot." My companions all rolled their eyes.

"Your turn to drive, D!" I called out as me and Jeff piled back into the police cruiser.

"Right!"

I looked back at the shattered door to the store as Darrell dodged past several zombies. Had we done the right thing? I just don't know.


	6. Chapter 6

We cruised back down the street we had come from in silence. The only sounds were that of the static from the radio, which we had left on in hopes that we would hear some kind of news or a call for help or something, and the quiet crunching of the cats as they nibbled on some cat food underneath my seat. My experience in the Walgreens had left me shaken. I always considered myself to be a kind person. I always thought of myself as being very humane. Hell I was taking my cats along for this crazy ride, risking life and limb for cat food. I'd call that pretty conscientious, but I couldn't stop thinking about that woman we left in the store. She was scared to death, and we just left her there. Maybe we could have found a doctor to help her before she turned. Maybe we could have burned the infection out or something and saved her life if nothing else. But we just left her there, meat for the dead. Jeff and I didn't say anything to the others as we drove along, and we couldn't really even look each other in the eyes.

The streets were all messed up. Some places we could squeeze through, some we couldn't. Our plan to make our way east out of the city was quickly being derailed by the maze of streets, abandoned cars, and large packs of the undead. That last bit was becoming more and more of a factor as time wore on. I checked the watch on Jeff's left arm. It read 5:30 a.m. Dawn would be coming soon. Something in me longed for the coming of day to end this nightmare, but the rest of me knew it would only be shedding more light on the horror that was creeping in all around us. Darrell veered around another crashed car. Our course was taking us more north than east, but we were unwilling to abandon our ride just yet.

"So uh, what are we gonna do about gas?" Braddly asked, finally breaking the silence.

Jeff and I craned our necks to look at the gas gauge. We were currently sitting at half a tank.

"This will last us awhile." Darrell said.

"Yeah... but we don't know what's gonna happen. We might want to fill up the tank and a gas can, if we can." I replied.

"Well, how bout there?" Brad was pointing to a filling station about a block ahead. From here we could see a couple of the walking dead shuffling around. The building wasn't large though... couldn't be many more inside.

"Think we can find one in the clear?" Darrell asked hesitantly

"From the looks of things isn't much "clear" right now." I sighed.

"Let's do it then." Jeff said, clicking the hammer back on his pistol to accent the comment.

Darrell stopped the police cruiser about 10 yards away from the pumps and popped the trunk open. Jeff and I piled out of the car. Braddly held onto the cats, making sure they didn't bolt out of the car and into danger. Jeff grabbed a red five gallon plastic gas can from the back and followed just behind me. Clicking the safety off my shotgun my heart raced as we neared the filling station. Four of the walking dead turned their attention to us. It was obvious these zombies were only recently deceased. Except for the blood their clothes were pristine. One looked like he might have worked here before. His name tag read "Harry."

The front-most zombie used to be a woman. She was dressed in a baby blue dress with white lace on the fringe and sleeves. He hair was caked with blackish ichor. Her eyes were almost completely rolled back into her head. He motions were stiff, and I could hear a cracking noise with each step she took. A quick glance down revealed her leg resting at an odd angle... obviously broken. The dead woman moaned pathetically as she reached out for me. I raised my shotgun and pulled the trigger. The back of the woman's head exploded, and the front of it didn't fare much better. The kick was substantial. I staggered a step back. The zombie collapsed to the ground, twitching just slightly. It's companions were undaunted, however, and continued their approach.

Jeff stepped up next to me, pistol raised. He fired two shots at the next nearest zombie, the report of his pistol was sharp and piercing compared to the deep –boom- produced by the shotgun. The first shot struck the zombie in its shoulder. It twisted and staggered from the force of the impact. Black blood and bits of flesh sprayed from the exit wound behind it. The second shot hit its mark, putting a hole in the zombie's forehead. The corpse staggered back a couple of steps then fell backwards. I took a step forward, and aimed left at another of the dead. This one was once a rather portly man. I pumped the shotgun, expelling the spent shell and fired. My aim was slightly off. I blew a hole in the man's stomach, gobs of rotfat flying causing the remaining viscera to fall out. I was caught off guard by the grisly display. The zombie didn't even seem to notice and kept coming towards me. I was busy trying not to throw up when Jeff stepped around me and placed a bullet between the monster's eyes. It shuffled a step more then fell to the ground, still trailing it's intestines behind it.

In my nausea I had almost forgotten the fourth zombie. A shout from Darrell snapped me from my reverie before it got too close. I kicked the corpse in the stomach and it shuffled back a few paces. Another pump and fire of the shotgun took its chest apart. It didn't go down immediately, but enough of the zombie was destroyed to make it harmless. It collapsed a few disturbing seconds later on top of one of its former companions.

Jeff wiped his brow and turned, looking back at the police cruiser. A smirk crept across his face and he tapped me on the shoulder.

"Lookit them," he giggled.

I turned and looked back at the police cruiser, Darrell and Brad were staring at us through the windows, eyes wide.

I chuckled.

"Let's get the gas and bail man."

Jeff nodded.

'Hey brad," I yelled, "You okay to pump?"

Brad nodded and Darell eased the car up to the pumps, taking a few moments to steer around the four dead... well dead-er zombies. Brad eased out and removed to nozzle, waiting for us to ready the pump from inside.

Jeff and I moved to the main building. The lights were still on inside. I could feel a hard knot of fear well up inside me as we approached the door. It looked like there was blood spattered everywhere. We opened the door and Jeff took a step back.

"Aw geezus!" he groaned.

Inside the small convenience store were several unmoving bodies. Their heads were torn open, not shot or bashed, but torn. Blood was splattered everywhere. I swallowed my disgust and moved to activate the gas pumps.

"What the hell happened here? This doesn't look like what we've seen before" Jeff asked.

"I dunno. Don't wanna know. Just fill that can up and lets get outta here." I replied, pressing several buttons on the console next to the cash register. The thought crossed my mind to take the contents of the register... but I quickly tossed that idea aside. Money wasn't worth much in this sort of situation. Instead I snagged all the beef jerky from the counter and a 6 pack of bottled water on the way out.

I couldn't help but wonder... what could do that kind of damage to those people?


	7. Chapter 7

Author's note: Just wanted to drop a little "thank you" to those who have been reading my little story here. It's a big encouragement to know that someone is reading and actually likes what I'm doing.

Thanks guys.

Darrell was cursing under his breath as we were forced to turn around yet again and try to find another way out of town. None of us seemed to e willing to try and walk the distance, I don't think Darrell or myself could physically handle it, and the number of walking corpses was increasing. The size of the packs we were encountering was steadily increasing. The average pack size had gone from about 7 or 8 to two dozen or more in the last three hours. You would think in a place like Texas more people would be up in arms by now. Maybe they were... somewhere outside the city.

The sun was beginning to cast a soft red glow on the eastern horizon. I noticed Darrell's eyes beginning to droop. We were all feeling the effects of the constant fear and fatigue.

"Okay Brad, how's that ankle feeling?" Braddly had wrapped it tightly while we drove along and had downed several tablets of "Aleve."

"Well enough," he said.

"Alright, your turn to drive then. Pull over for a sec D."

Darrell blinked to full alertness, nodded, and pulled over. We were next to one of the local nurseries/tree stores. The sign over the place read "Tom's Tree Place." My mom shopped here for rose moss sometimes. Darrell and Brad had both hopped out and were walking around the car to trade places while Jeff and I kept watch for the walking dead. Darrell had just reached the back passenger-side door when there was a tremendous WHOMP sound, followed by the sound of breaking glass. Jeff and I ducked instinctively as the top of the car caved in bout a foot. My vision was obscured by the dented roof. I heard Darrell scream. Almost without thinking, I angled the shotgun, put it to the roof, and fired. There was some kind of horrific screech. I pumped the shotgun and fired again. The sound of the blast inside the car was almost deafening. Something shifted around on the car then jumped off. We could feel the car shake under the force of the leap. We couldn't see where it went from where we were. Jeff and I managed to get out of the car. The cats followed quickly, scampering several few feet away from the car.

I ran around the car to where I had last seen Darrell. He was lying on the ground, Brad was kneeling next to him, muttering something in a panicked voice. Jeff shouted something I couldn't understand, but when I turned I saw him pointing up towards a nearby office building. I followed his hand and blinked in disbelief at what I saw. There was... something... crawling up the side of the building. It was vaguely man-shaped, but moved with a sort of inhuman speed and grace. In the pre-dawn light any specific features were hard to make out, and it quickly scurried out of sight through a broken window.

I turned my attention back to Darrell. There was a wound on his arm, some kind of circular gouge, and it went deep. He was clutching his arm, teeth grinding from the pain.

"What happened? Was it that thing?" I asked

Braddly nodded.

"It... shot its... tongue out at me or something..." Darrell managed to say between groans.

"Brad get a first aid kit and see what you can do, okay?"

"No problem," Brad said as he leaned into the back seat, reaching for one of the red and white packs we had looted from Walgreens.

"Jeff?"

"What?" Jeff seemed startled by my question.

"We gotta find someplace to hold up for now... Darrell's hurt, we're all exhausted. Got any bright ideas?"

Brad spoke up from wrapping Darrell's wound, "The self storage place where I keep some of my stuff from when I moved isn't too far from here. Those doors are pretty solid."

"Braddly you're a genius!" I beamed

"Well I do try," he smirked.

"I'LL DRIVE" Jeff exclaimed as he bounced over to the driver-side of the car. Brad and I helped Darrell to his feet and into the back seat. His wound was deep, but the bleeding seemed to be under control. I couldn't help but wonder what might happen. That... monster... if it was related in some way to the zombies, and I don't see how the two couldn't be somehow connected, what if it infected Darrell somehow? Pushing the thought from my mind I climbed into the front passenger seat, Mara and Wedge both hopped up into by lap. Mara rested her front paws on my chest briefly, nuzzling my neck before curling up against her companion, the young Siamese and her grey Tabby companion were obviously about as tired as we were. I had to hunker down somewhat to avoid colliding the dented roof of the cruiser. Jeff slammed the accelerator down and rocketed past several walking dead that had been drawn towards the commotion.

"It just up the street there," Brad gestured.

"What all you keeping in there?" Jeff asked

"Furniture mostly. Couple of sofas, my bed, a chest of drawers..."

"Well at least we'll be comfortable," I muttered

"Dusty, but comfortable," Brad added.

Darrell wasn't saying much. He was fighting to remain calm through the pain in his shoulder. I could tell he was worried... probably about the same thing that I was. I didn't dare say anything yet though. Jeff, as twitchy as he was right then, might have put a bullet between D's eyes just to be safe. That, and I just didn't want to think about it. I didn't say another word until we pulled up to the self-storage facility.

The gates were closed, and no one seemed to be around to open them. This was good news. It mean less chance there were zombies inside the place, though I somehow doubted that even a ten-foot wrought iron fence would do much to stop something as strong and agile as that thing that attacked us just moments ago. Jeff hopped out.

"Wait here. I'll get over the fence and see if I can open it from that office there."

Jeff scampered over the fence with the agility that only skinny folks can muster. I might have been able to make that climb... but it would have taken an hour and resulted in multiple strains followed by a nasty fall I'm sure. A minute later the gates rolled open. I slid into the driver seat and eased the car inside. The gates then shut behind us. Feeling slightly more safe I got out and helped Darrell out while brad checked his ring for the storage unit's key. Jeff reappeared a moment later from the office.

"Nobody inside. Stay alert there could be some wandering around out here."

Everyone nodded. Brad's storage unit was just a few step away from the car. He unlocked it with his key and slid the garage-style door up. As expected, very dusty. Moving inside we closed the door and each found a comfortable spot. Brad started changing the dressing on Darrell's wound. The cats and I curled up on a sofa after hauling the plastic cover off of it. The others were talking but I was asleep before my head hit the pillow. The only thing I was aware of was the soft purring of my fellow feline survivors.


	8. Chapter 8

Author's Note: I suppose I should have been mentioning this sort of thing all along, but here goes anyway. Ahem...

I do not, not have I ever, owned any of the intellectual property directly or indirectly pertaining to the Resident Evil series of games or movies. My work here is simply a bit of fan fiction designed for the amusement of other Resident Evil fans.

I don't have any money to speak of.

Don't sue me.

Please.

Now... back to our story already in progress shall we?

I don't know how long I slept. This slumber was one of those deep dreamless sleeps. One of those sleeps that it kinda hurts to get up from, the sleep of the dead, so to speak. My sleep was disturbed by a metallic roar, which raced overhead. It was dark inside the storage unit. Only a trickle of light was leaking in from underneath the sliding metal door. I could hear the others stirring. The cats were still curled up next to me and were stretching. I clicked the button on the flashlight attached to my shotgun, made sure the safety was on, and looked around. Jeff was unfolding himself from a puffy-looking chair, Braddly was sitting up from his bed, and I could hear Darrell shuffling around somewhere out of sight.

I eased to my feet and lifted the garage door slightly. It was daytime, afternoon by the look of the sun. We had been asleep awhile. Laying on the floor I peered out to see if there was any sign of hostile forces. No zombies. No monsters.

"Looks clear for now guys," I said over my shoulder as I lifted the door further.

Looking into the sky I could see the source of my disturbance. There was a helicopter flying over the area. I couldn't make out many details. Looked black from here. My heart leapt with the thought that someone may be looking for survivors in all this mess.

"GUYS! There's a helicopter out there!"

"Aren't there some flares in the car?" Darrell said groggily.

Slinging my shotgun over my shoulder, I made for the trunk of the police cruiser, searching frantically through the various items we had collected for survival. Finally I found a small black plastic case labeled, "emergency flares." Opening it up I was pleased to see several road flares and even a single-shot flare pistol. Laughing to myself I got the flare pistol out and cocked it back. Lifting it over my head I fired a shot straight up. A bright red ball of fire arced up into the air. I watched the helicopter, hoping the occupants would see the flare and come to assist us. Surely it was police or military or something. Sure enough, a moment later the distant chopper pivoted and headed our direction.

"They saw it! They're coming!" I screamed.

There was a collective cheer from inside the storage unit. My weary companions came out and stood next to me waving frantically and shouting at the oncoming helicopter. Our feline compatriots ambled out of the storage shed, squinting at the bright light and licking their lips. Even Darrell seemed to cheer up. The bandages around his wounded shoulder showed only a slight reddening, the bleeding must have almost stopped. We yelled and waved and laughed up until I noticed that the helicopter wasn't really slowing down as it approached. It's nose was angled down, it was black, unmarked, and as it got nearer I could see the helicopter had multiple weapons mounted on the sides. Something felt very wrong. The others could see the worry on my face and stopped cheering.

"What's wrong, Scott?" Darrel asked.

His answer came in the form of some kind of small rocket fired from a pod on the right side of the helicopter. I pushed Darrell to the ground, hard. I heard him grunt painfully as his already wounded shoulder hit the ground. Jeff and Brad flung themselves away from the police cruiser. A fraction of a second later the rocket his the car. The explosion shook the ground beneath us. A missile and a full tank of gas had the predictable effect of producing a huge fireball and a large cloud of black smoke. Fire washed over my back, and I could immediately smell burning hair.

"Oh shit!" I heard someone yell.

"Move move move!" I yelled at Darrell, practically dragging him to his feet. Jeff and Brad were scrambling to get up.

"What the fuck are they doing?!" Brad yelled as he moved past me.

"Hell if I know!" I replied.

Jeff was making for the office where the gate control was. The chopper swiveled slightly an unleashed a hail of bullets one of it's mounted weapons. He made it inside without getting hit, and the gate to the storage began to slide open. The office building was being riddled with bullets though. The rest of us made for the gate. A bewildered Jeff Poked his head out and followed on our heels during a lull in the gunfire. We bolted across the street and into an alleyway, using the office building as cover from the deadly weapons of the helicopter, which still hovered nearby. The two cats were shaking uncontrollably, the loud noise and explosion had left the poor felines shaken. I felt a sting in my back. I didn't have to ask if I was burned, I just wondered how badly. Burns can kill the nerve endings in the skin, so you don't feel as much pain as you would. I shook my head, putting that thought out of my mind.

Darrell and Braddly stood panting. Darrell was clutching his shoulder, I could see the red stain on his bandages spreading slowly. The flurry of activity must have torn it and started the bleeding again. Jeff slammed his fist against the wall he was leaning on.

"Dammit we got nowhere to go." He muttered.

"We can head inside the building here," Brad said, gesturing to a metal door nearby.

"We got no idea what's in there," Darrell hissed.

"That thing will swing around here eventually and mow us down, we have to get inside," I replied.

Moving to the door I saw it had a padlock, but it was rusted and old. I brought the butt of my shotgun down on it hard. It took several blows but finally it gave way, allowing the door to swing open, revealing a dark, dusty area. We all filed inside, weapons at the ready, and slammed the door shut behind us.


	9. Chapter 9

Author's Note: I apologize for the delay in the last couple of chapters. Life and all that.

Furthermore, I do not, not have I ever, owned any of the intellectual property directly or indirectly pertaining to the Resident Evil series of games or movies. My work here is simply a bit of fan fiction designed for the amusement of other Resident Evil fans.

I don't have any money to speak of.

Don't sue me.

Please.

Once inside the building all of us stood there, panting, for several minutes. The helicopter could still be heard outside, but eventually the sounds of its rotor blades faded. Braddly was carrying both cats, which were still shivering with fright. I finally took a moment to survey our surroundings. I had never been here before. Lubbock wasn't exactly a large town but it was large enough for there to be plenty of buildings that I wasn't familiar with. From the looks of things this was one of those old, mostly unused buildings like they have downtown. One of those post-great-depression industrial revolution era buildings that used to be some kind of factory or something and finally just gave out some years later.

There was unidentifiable machinery strewn about. Maybe an old printing press... or a textile plant... some of the rusted machines had the look of a loom or some similar contraption. Just to our right there was a set of metal stairs suspended from cables that reached to the ceiling. The seemed to lead to some sort of office area.

Darrell sat down, groaning as he favored his wounded arm. Most of our first aid supplies had been in the trunk of the police cruiser, along with our food and water. Rummaging through my pack I discovered that I still had a 20 oz bottle of 'Dasani', 2 boxes of shotgun shells (100 count), and a box of pop-tarts, and a small first aid kit left. Retrieving the kit I moved over to where Darrell was sitting, easing myself down in front of him.

"Ok man, let's ahve a look at that," I said, reaching for the bandage.

"I'm sorry guys... I'm just slowing you down at this point," Darrell said.

"Don't worry about that. Long as you can point that gun you're useful," I chuckled.

I was actually pretty worried. He was looking a bit pale. It hadn't looked like he had lost that much blood. That thing that hurt him, maybe it was poisonous... or worse... infected with the same stuff that made the zombies. Darrell hissed as I pulled the bandage away. His wound was bleeding, but not as much as I had thought. The wound itself was beggining to look bad though. Brad had done a decent job stiching it, but there was puss oozing from it now along with the blood.

As I dabbed the blood from D's wound Jeff began to look around.

"Don't go too far," Brad said.

"Yeah, this'll just take a minute, may not be totally safe in here," I added

Jeff didnt say anything, but did limit his explorations to a direct line of sight, which wasnt very far due to the machines lying around. I had started applying some antibiotic ointment, hoping to help stave off infection, when something odd happened. The area under Darrell's wound twitched. It wasnt one of those involuntary twiches of the muscles, it was more like the wound itself twitched to avoid my touch. Darrell obviously felt it, and he looked at me with wide eyes.

"That felt... wierd," he said nervously. The comment was accented by another unusual twitch from the wound.

I scrambled away from Darrell. I did it almost on reflex. The cat's lept from Braddly's arms, scratching him again, and hid together in a small pipe. Wedge mewed frightfully. Braddly cursed for a moment then turned his attention to the source of the disturbance.

"What's wrong?"

I looked at Darrell, his eyes were pleading.

"N-nothing... something moved, I think it was a rat, it startled me."

About that time Jeff came back.

"Nothing in the immediate area...." He pulled up short, looking a the awkward scene, "Um. Everything okay?"

"Scott saw a rat and spazzed," Braddly giggled.

Darrell had quickly wrapped a clean bandage around his shoulder. I felt sick to my stomach, with a knot of fear growing deep in my bowels. Gathering ourselves up we started to explore the dark old building. No one, especially the larger of our number, seemed too keen on dealing with the old metal stairs suspended by cables, so we decided to clear the ground floor first.

As we moved through the maze of old machinery, each step kicked up a small dust cloud, leaving a footprint in the dust. Jeff and I were up front, weapons at the ready. As the group moved forward I could see the two felines slinking through the machinery, keeping pace with us. Reckon they felt safer there, more cover. The dust was hanging thick in the air, and some of the machines must have been leaking oil because the area smelled sort of like a garage.

My eyes strained in the dim light that filtered in from the skylights above. We hadn't found any power switches, making the large suspended light fixtures above us useless. It looked like the building was bigger on the inside than we had thought at first. This bothered me. The night and day spent running for my life had given me a certain dislike for large open areas. Too easy to get surrounded. I was thinking more and more about making for those stairs and holing up in that office for awhile when the cats began to growl.

Everyone stopped and looked at Wedge, who was hunkered down inside a piece of metal tubing. Mara was concealed somewhere near him, I could see the glint of her cream-colored fur. They were both growling in a very uncharacteristic fashion.

"That's... not a good sign," Brad sighed.

"SHH!", I hissed as I raised my shotgun to my shoulder and turned around. I could hear something, there was a soft clicking or tapping sound coming from ahead of us. Jeff picked up on it just after I did. He gripped his pistol with both hands and raised it.

"Oh crap..."

I turned my head to see what Darrell was worrying about. There was a dog standing behind us. Looked like a doberman, or german shepherd, hard to tell in the dim light and with half the skin missing. At the same time two similar looking beasts stalked around the corner of a nearby machine, eys lowered, glaring at us angrily. These looked like the undead... but they moved with a feral grace that the zombies we had faced before couldn't muster. I didnt have time to wonder why.

"WASTE EM!" I screeched as I fired my shotgun at the nearest dog. The flesh tore from its shoulder where the pellets hit, but it only seemed to anger the beast. The pair in front of us launched themselves forward. Jeff opened fire while I pumped the spent shell. His rounds hit somewhere in the body of the lead dog. I could hear Darrell cursing and firing his pistol, but I couldnt turn to help him as one of the gruesome animals lept towards me. I only had time to bring my shotgun up to block, placing the gun's length squarely between it's jaws. The force of the impact knocked me down, and I found myself wrestling with the beast for control of my weapon.

There was gunfire and shouts and curses all around, but all I could see was the red-hot hatred burning in the eyes of the animal that was perched on top of me, shaking the gun in it's mouth violently. It reeked of rot and something else more foul that I couldnt identify. The dog let loose of the shotgun and lunged foward past my defense, jaws opened wide to reveal impossibly sharp teeth and a rotting tongue. I gasped and struggled but it moved towards my throat unhindered... but was suddenly flung aside with a sickening crunch of breaking bone. Braddly was standing over me, my staff in his hands. He held it like a baseball bat and had, in my book, just scored a home run.

The wounded zombie-dog slid across the concrete and his one of the nearby machines, losing more of its flesh on the jagged edges and exposed blades. It hefted itself back to its feet, snarled angrily, and bolted back for us. Just as it reached my feet it lept, aiming for Braddly. I aimed my shotgun and fired, sending the beast, sans torso, flying up and backwards. It fel limp on impact. I scrambled to my feet, looking around. Jeff was emptying rounds into a barely moving dog, and another one lay nearby, twictching its hind leg fitfully, a clean bullethole in its head.

There was no sign of Darrell...


	10. Chapter 10

Author's Note: I apologize for the delay in the last couple of chapters. Life and all that.

Furthermore, I do not, not have I ever, owned any of the intellectual property directly or indirectly pertaining to the Resident Evil series of games or movies. My work here is simply a bit of fan fiction designed for the amusement of other Resident Evil fans.

I don't have any money to speak of.

Don't sue me.

Please.

"Where's Darrell?" I said.

Everyone looked around, but no one made a move. No telling where more of those hell hounds could be hiding. I peered around several corners, but found nothing. Braddly, on the other hand, called out to Jeff and I a few moments later.

"Hey guys, have a look at this."

Just around one of the many machines laying nearby was the handgun Darrell had been using. Brad reached down to pick it up, but immediately dropped it. His hand came away trailing some sort of shiny, viscous slime.

"Aw fuck, gross," he cursed as he wiped it off on the nearest machine.

"That's not a good sign..." I muttered

"No shit," Jeff hissed at me, "D? HEY D!"

I winced at the noise. Rackett like that could easily bring more of... whatever... was lurking around. I pushed 2 rounds into the tubular magazine of my shotgun and expelled the empty shell in the chamber. Mara and wedge poked their heads out from under one of the nearby machines. I glanced down at them and sighed. As hard as all this was for the rest of us I could only imagine how unnerving all this crazy shit was for a couple of cats.

"Maybe he went upstairs," said brad, gesturing towards the suspended stairs that reached into the upper level of the warehouse.

"Well we're gonna hafta check it out anyway, let's go," Jeff said, accenting the statement by chambering a round in his handgun.

While the others were picking up their things I spent a few moments coaxing the cats into my backpack. While they wouldnt normally subject themselvs to such confinement, the backpack must have seemed as safe a place as any since they both crawled in and curled up in the main compartment, which was now empty save for the cats themselves.

"If you're done playing around over there can we get a move on, Scott," Jeff snapped.

I flipped him off and readied my shotgun saying, "I'll go first."

Why do I say stupid things like that?

Setting my foot upon the first step showed me how stable these stairs were. Metal cables descended form the ceiling, holding the stairs up. It was probably sturdy enough but the slight sway made it feel odd. Gripping the railing in my free hand I proceeded upwards into the musty, dimly lit second storey. I could feel the cats shift restlessly in my backpack. Mara poked her head out, peering over my shoulder as I crept along. Each step resulted in a slightly muffled, metallic echo. The others were several steps behind me as I made it to the catwalk that skirted the walls of the warehouse. About 10 yards away was what appeared to be an office, a small metallic structure secured to the inside wall of the building and to the catwalk itself. Dark windows looked out over the warehouse. Could make a good place to hole up, I thought to myself.

I stalked forward slowly, trying to me as quiet as possible. Braddly and Jeff moved up closer to me, Braddly pulling up the rear with my trusty beat-stick gripped tightly. I had just reached the edge of the building, only a few feet away from the door, when something caught my eye. Something clear and slimy was on the door. As I got closer I could make it out more clearly. It was a handprint.

That sinking feeling hit me just as something large and heavy crashed into the door to the office building from the inside, the smashed into something else inside the room. Whatever it was screeched hideously, the noise sounding like a cross between a human child and a lion's roar. It strummed every nerve in my body like an inept violinist. Mara pulled back inside the backpack, and I could feel both cats shivered with fright.

"Cover me" I heard myself command as I moved to stand in front of the door, clicking the flashlight on my shotgun on. Jeff moved beside me, aiming towards the door. Brad hunkered down like a major league player ready to swing for the bleachers. I kicked the door with my good leg, sending it flying open.

The light from my weapon illuminated... something. There was an upturned desk which partially obscured it. I quickly made out remnants of the "Die Orc" shirt Darrell had been wearing this whole time draped over the things form. I froze in place. Jeff said something under his breath I didn't quite catch. The creature howled again, climbing party over the table and facing us. Darrell's facial features had quite been consumed by the transformation yet. His face was twisted into an agonizing scream. His eyes ceased to exist as most of the flesh on his head had begun to melt away. Something long dangled from his mouth, and it took me a moment to realize it was his tongue. His body was warping and pulsating as we watched. His skin was tearing in places to revealing growing, knotted muscles.

"K....k...kill...." Darrel coughed.

I didn't give him the chance to finish the thought. The first shotgun blast took most of his head off. The second completed the job and took off some of his upper torso for good measure. The rest slumped to the floor in a spreading pool of blackish blood.

I pulled the door shut and looked at my stunned companions.

"Let's go... there's nothing left here for us anymore." I said flatly.


	11. Chapter 11

I turned and walked away from the blood-spattered doorway where the body of my friend Darrell was now laying. Whatever hell had been let loose in this town had managed to get inside him and turn him into a monster. Those statements alone would have been enough on any other day to get me committed, but right now the only living souls around had seen it all first hand and were in just the same shape I was. I wondered if this was what "combat fatigue" felt like.

Resting the shotgun on my shoulder I tromped back down the stairs, heading for the front door. Braddly ran up behind me, still glancing around corners, apparently fearing the arrival of more canine monsters.

"What the hell, Scott? You can't really be thinking about going out there?"

"Haven't seen any zombies in the daylight. And we can hear that chopper coming and take cover. Our best chance is to make some ground while the sun's out."

"Make ground to where?"

"Anywhere… anywhere where we can get some food and weapons and hole up for awhile."

I reached the door we had come in through. No sounds were to be heard.

"I wonder why they aren't out in the daylight," Braddly mused.

Jeff eased up to the wall, looking at me, his expression was hard to read but I think he looked surprised.

"Instinct maybe…" he muttered, "Maybe the sun rots them faster and they can feel that."

"Actually," I butted in, "I think it's because the sunlight blinds them…"

The other two just kinda stared.

"Think about it. You seen one of those corpses blink? The sunlight would burn out their retinas real quick and then they couldn't see anything. I reckon they cant see too well as it is with their eyes all dried out anyway . The sun would render them completely blind."

Jeff and Brad shrugged as I unbolted the metal door and looked outside. There was nothing in the alleyway, and I couldn't hear the killer helicopter's blades. So I lead the way into the street. Mara and Wedge rustled inside my backpack, poking their heads out. I knew we had to recover some supplies. We were low on food, and most of the stuff we had scrounged up was lost when the police car went up in flames.

The streets of my hometown, once familiar, now seemed alien. The crashed or abandoned cars, the blood-stained walls of the buildings, the haunting silence, all made this once friendly environment utterly alien to me. I'd already lost two friends in to this horror, Wednesday, and now Darrell. Darrel by my own hands… No! I mustn't think of it that way. He was changing. There was nothing else to do. If I hadn't he would have killed us.

I blinked back the tears and wiped my face on my now rather grungy sleeve. Jeff and Braddly were walking a few paces behind me. No one was talking. What was there to say. Idle conversation was pretty much thrown right out the window at this point. "Hey read any good books lately?" "No but I did blow the face off a good friend of mine." Yeah right. Even Braddly was quiet and he was normally a complete chatterbox. I was beginning to worry about us… not just in the sense that there were things and people trying to kill us… but in the sense that we were all starting to withdraw a bit.

I wonder if soldiers felt this way in Vietnam.


	12. Chapter 12

Notes from the Author: Sorry it has been so long since I have posted updates. The most recent was chapter 11, but I'm going to try and get back into things. I really do want to finish this story and maybe start working on another one. For those who have bothered to read this little tirade of mine I really do appreciate your sticking with me.

My feet were beginning to ache. My body wasn't designed for long distance running… ok I'm lying I wasn't running. I'm too fat for that. But I was managing a decent power walk. The rest last night did a little to help the groaning in my right knee, but not as much as I would have hoped. We had been walking for about 3 hours I suppose. None of us had watches, we used out cell phones, which were all dead now anyway, so I couldn't be sure. The old judge-it-by-the-sun method always did manage to escape me. My best guess said two or three in the afternoon.

We stopped at a small convenience store which was mercifully empty. Jeff kept watch outside while Brad and I grabbed what we could that would last us a while. Granola bars, some warm bottles of water, and finally, some cat food. Mara and Wedge scrabbled form my backpack as I tore open two small can of moist cat food and let them dig in. The purring was loud against the otherwise dead silence. Stuffing several more cans and a snickers bar into my backpack's pockets I noticed Brad over by the magazines and comics.

"Not exactly survival material there Brad," I smiled at him impishly.

"Actually it is." He held up the atlas maps that he had picked up, "Once we're clear of town and on the road we may need these."

"Good point. Don't forget to grab some stuff for Jeff ."

Brad grabbed a plastic bag from behind the counter and filled it with food and water.

Returning outside we found Jeff lounging against one of the gas pumps.

"I was thinking," Jeff said, "There's all this gas here. The place still has power. Why not empty out some of the glass-bottles in there and make up some cocktails?"

I blinked.

Shit I can't believe I hadn't thought of that… I usually pride myself on the clever ideas but that one goes to Jeff. Brad and I ran back into the store, activated the gas pump, and began emptying some of the glass bottles. Luckily Orange Crush comes in glass… or else we would have been hard pressed to find any glass bottles. A few minutes later we were all sporting narrow, rag-stuffed bottles sticking out of our pockets, and me with a backpack full of cats and food. A few lighters compliments of Fina completed the ensemble. SO basically we looked like a bunch of complete dorks traipsing down the deserted streets… but we were well-armed dorks.

We reached a major intersection, 19th and Q. Car dealerships and office buildings lined the street here, only the WhattaBurger seemed out of place here. The sun was beginning to get on towards evening but I wasn't worried just yet… I was beginning to limp badly though. I was slowing us down.

"We should head east from here," said Jeff, "make for the countryside."

"By the time we hit the city limits it will be dark again, " Brad replied, "And I don't want to be caught out in the open in the dark with only a couple of flashlights."

He was right… we were going to have to find another place to hole up before dark… and it was probably my fault for being so slow. Jeff's skinny ass could've made it all the way out of town on his own by now probably.

"What do you think, Scott?" Brad's question made me blink, I hadn't been paying attention. I was so strung out…

"About what?"

"The pawn shop there," Brad pointed. The place was familiar to me. Brick building. Barred windows and doors. If we could get in and lock it up it might just hold us through the night.

"Yeah… bet there's some guns in there too…" I said.

So we made for the pawn shop. The front door was unlocked, but the smeared blood on the bottom of the glass gave us pause.

"Well they have to be somewhere… " Brad muttered.

"Okay… I've seen enough SWAT movies to have this whole sweep and clear thing figured out… sorta." Jeff grinned.

"Yeah, room by room, if it shambles, and doesn't speak, blow it's head off." I said, raising my shotgun to my shoulder.

Jeff turned to Braddly "Brad, keep em off our backs with Scott's club till we can get you a proper weapon." Brad nodded in reply. I un-slung my backpack and handed it to Braddly.

"Keep them safe."

Jeff pulled the door open and I swiveled around, leading the way with the barrel of my gun. The flashlight taped to the end illuminated a trashed room. Shelves were turned over, and I spotted a few bullet holes in the wall. They must've gotten in before anyone could lock this place down. I took a few tentative steps forward and Jeff entered behind me. His pistol swept left and right while I stepped over a broken chair. I was too busy watching the space in front of me to see the hand reach out from underneath a toppled shelf and grab my ankle….


	13. Chapter 13

I panicked and stumbled backwards. The cold, dead hand around my ankle held on with an iron grip. My backwards progress was brought to a screeching halt as I collided with Jeff, sending us both tumbling to the cluttered floor. Jeff swore out loud as his pistol went skittering across the floor a few feet away. Braddly hopped back to avoid the cartoon-like domino effect.

The zombie drug itself out from under the rubble. It was mostly hairless… mostly scalp-less for that matter. Sharp shards of wood from the broken shelves it was buried under tore gashes in its putrid flesh as its other arm reached forward and clamped onto my other leg. The former man was crawling up towards me, its mouth open wide, revealing a blackened tongue, yellowed gums, but perfect white teeth. The dead creature moaned out loud in anticipation of feasting on my flesh.

In my panic I didn't even think to fire my shotgun. Instead I began to beat at the creatures head with the butt end of the gun. This slowed its progress but only slightly. This one was strong. Meanwhile, Jeff was struggling to extricate himself out from underneath me and Braddly was trying to work around the whole mess and get inside.

As the dead guy, Jeff, and I thrashed around on the floor, other sounds came from further back in the darkened room. Several forms stood up slowly from behind the counter, more of the walking dead. I had no time to count as I was desperately bashing at the zombie which had designs on various choice cuts from my flank. Each blow sheared off more of the creatures rotting skin, but didn't seem to lessen the creature's determination. Jeff finally managed to scurry out from beneath me and scrambled to get his gun. Braddly hopped around behind me and the zombie and brought his (my) staff around the Zombie's head, pulling back on its throat. This would have choked any living creature but in this case all it did was drag the creature backwards, which was certainly fine by me. Braddly stumbled and groaned a bit as he pried the ravenous ghoul off of me and pushed it aside. I shuffled backwards and tried to find my feet but was having trouble with the loose debris on the floor and my inherently un-bending knees.

By now Jeff had recovered his handgun. He stood over me and placed one round in the Zombie's head as it struggled to stand. The other corpses shambled into the light that was leaking in from the door. What was once a woman, a teenage boy, and a man reached out with their arms and groaned hungrily as they neared our position. Brad used the reach of his weapon to his advantage and thrust hard at the chest of the teenage ghoul. It fell backwards against the "woman" and they both tumbled to the floor. By now I had grabbed the wall and hoisted myself, painfully, to my feet. I brought the shotgun to my shoulder and aimed it towards the pair of tripped up zombies. The teenager's upper torso exploded like a ripe melon, severing the head in the process. Coagulated blood and ichors too foul to describe splashed back onto me. I took a couple of steps forward, standing next to Brad. A pump of the stock and a second squeeze of the trigger stilled the female.

Several sharp-tones blasts from Jeff's handgun signaled the end of the last zombie within sight. I turned in that direction only to see the hefty corpse slump clumsily to the ground, exhaling pathetically as it died again.


	14. Chapter 14

For those who care and have been keeping up with my storyline a few months ago the real life-wedge had an accident and was hit by a car and is no longer with us. His memory will live on in my little story however. He was a good kitty and he will be missed.

We had spent about 15 minutes dragging the stinking corpses out of the building and piling them in the alleyway nearby. The stench was only amplified in the imfamous west texas afternoon heat. I couldnt help but wonder how long they had been dead. If they were old bodies from a grave or something I could understand their decomposition, but the clothes on them seemed casual and not all that old. I wonder if whatever it was making them into zombies also made them rot faster... I shuddered at the thought of existing in that half-alive state. By the time we were done moving the heftier of the zombies I was grateful that there was still power and that this place had central air conditioning. Afterwards we drew all the blinds and locked the steel-barred doors. It would take something tougher than one of those zombies to break in here. Unfortunately after what we had seen so far the possibility of something like that coming along wasn't far from our minds.

There a working mini fridge in the back with sandwich making inside and a few cold sodas. The last thing we really needed at this point was more caffeine and sugar but they were good and cold and it's simple pleasure like a cold Dr. Pepper that were helping us through this insanity so we divied them up. I released a grateful pair of cats from my backpack, who eagerly gorged themselves on sandwich meat. After a few minutes they were lounging about the racks of pawned merchandise licking their paws contentedly. Another welcome surprise was the employee bathroom, which was still working.

After catching our breaths and eating abit the three of us set about looking through the place. Contrary to popular belief, and much to our dismay, not all pawn shops in texas are loaded down with assault weapons. We did, however come up with a few 9mm handguns and an additional shotgun. Ammunition was also on tap and our pockets and packs were now stuffed with food and ammo. Braddly finally set aside my trusty walking staff in favor of the 12 gauge, pump-action beauty that we dug up from under the front counter. Jeff claimed the remaining handguns, since he was the better shot with them.

I took the opportunity to peek through the blinds and have a look outside while everyone else was reloading and getting settled in for the night. The sun was just beginning to approach the horizon. Texas sunsets are legendary and Lubbock is no exception. Lacking most of the skyscraper-type buildings of your larger cities you can get a good view of the sunset from pretty much anywhere. The scattered clouds and dust pick up shades of red and orange and create almost unrealistic bands of color in the sky. My reverie was broken when I spotted a helicopter moving across my fiew of view. It was some distance away. I couldnt even hear the blades.

"There's still some military helicopter out there flying around," I said over my shoulder.

"Well long as it's out there and we're in here I'm ok with that," Brad replied.

"That pretty much applies to everything at this point," I murmured back.

As the sun touched the horizon and began to sink the day slowly dimmed. Almost as if on cue I saw things begin to rustle and shuffle in the distance. The dead would walk the streets of Lubbock Texas again tonight. I closed the blinds and moved to turn off the lights.

"Hey..." Jeff protested.

"If those things know were in here even the bars may not save us. So no lights, and nothing above a whisper." I explained.

Jeff raised an eyebrow at me appraisingly, then nodded his consent.

I made my way into an office chair after flipping the lights off. I made sure the safety was on my shotgun and rested it against my shoulder. As the sun sank below the horizon leaving only dim twilight outside I could picture in my head the horde of dead bodies shuffling around outside. Could they sense us? Or smell us? Would the slain zombies outside give us away. A million thoughts of things that we might have done wrong or that would come smashing through the door at any moment plagued my mind.

"So what about tomorrow?" Brad's whisperedvoice was a welcome distraction.

"I dunno. Guess we keep heading east out of town." At least it was a plan...

Jeff spoke up, "The roads outside town may be more clear. We may be able to get another car and get some distance between us and 'them'."

I felt wedge hop up onto my lap and curl up. Odd how a simple gesture like that from a cat can be so comforting. Everyone was nestling in somewhere comfortable, though I'll admit I was a bit selfish in claiming the office chair. My aching body, however, didnt feel much guilt and gratefully sank into the cushy padded chair and before long I found my eyes drooping...

I am standing in the middle of the street. I can't tell which street, everything seems so foggy. My eyes strain to focus on the street signs but I just can't manage it. From every direction they are coming, the shambling dead. Their strangled groans echo in my head like some demented symphony. The tone and pitch of the moaning zombies rises and falls with an almost steady rhythm. My hands are empty, no weapon in sight. The nearest of them is only 30 feet away and I have nowhere to run to. I spin on my heels, looking for an opening, and find nothing but and ever-thickening wall of pallid flesh and rotting cloth.

I fall to my knees, sobbing. How did I end up here? I'm smarter than this. How could I let myself get separated and surrounded? I close my eyes, tears falling onto my hands. My teeth grind in anticipation of the first fateful bite. I wait... nothing. I open my eyes and see them all standing around me, clustered in a circle about ten feet away from me. The closest zombies slump to their knees, followed by the row behind them, and then those behind them, and so on and so forth until a horde of zombies kneel before me. Their groans are almost silent now. Over the low drone I can hear whispered, tortured voices.

A howl pierces the silence from far away. A horrible sound, like hundreds of zombied moaning as loud as they can. The horde before me turn their heads in the direction of the sound and lurch to their feet. From down the street more are coming, but there is something behind them that I can sense but not see. A presence dark and powerful. The zombies in front of me lurch foward with determination...

My eyes jerked open in response to the crashing sound outside. The howling from my dreams had followed me into reality. Jeff and Braddley were already at the windows, peering carefully throught he blinds.

"What the fuck?" Jeff asked no one inparticular, "They're just standing there, howling..."

I moved to a window and looked outside, my mind still foggy from the dream. The street was littered with zombies, all standing in place and howling at the sky as best as their rotted vocal cords could manage.

"Well ain't this fuckin' wonderful." Brad muttered.

I tried to reply, but there was a growing pounding in my head, almost like my skull was resonating with the zombie's chorus. The pain was quickly growing unbearable. I could hear the whispered, tortured voices again in my head.

"Meat... feed... " they said.

I could barely hear the shelf behind me buckle under my weight as I fell to the ground, clutching my head. I'm still not sure where the screaming was coming from... me... or something else.


End file.
